


to surrender to a queen

by StarsinmyTea



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub, F/F, Multi, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Spanking, Strap-Ons, Threesome - F/F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:20:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24435772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarsinmyTea/pseuds/StarsinmyTea
Summary: Historia sighs and gazes at Ymir’s trembling form.“Oh, Ymir. All you have to do tonight is be silent and take what you’re given. And already you’ve broken the rule three times. Ten strikes.”Ymir whimpers. “Mistress, please.Please.” Her ass already feels like it’s on fire from the two rounds of spanking before. She can’t imagine how it will feel after ten more of Mikasa’s terrifying blows.
Relationships: Krista Lenz | Historia Reiss/Ymir, Mikasa Ackerman/Krista Lenz | Historia Reiss/Ymir
Comments: 4
Kudos: 72





	to surrender to a queen

**Author's Note:**

> I was about to go to sleep and then suddenly realized I _had_ to write Ymir getting wrecked _immediately_
> 
> Historia has such incredible dom energy, especially because she knows Ymir well enough to make her lose all self-control 
> 
> Mikasa's a frequent guest in the BDSM scenes of those two love birds. She has beautiful dom energy too, but she's happy to let Historia take control today. She'll get her chance next time~

Ymir is laid out on a wooden bench, her calves tied to her thighs, her forearms bound together in a diamond bind behind her back. There’s nothing holding her weight up except for Mikasa’s iron grip on her hips and the strap-on that slides deep inside, pinning her against the wood. 

The bench lifts and slams back down over and over with the force of Mikasa’s thrusts. The next shove forward is brutally hard, slamming right into the bundle of nerves inside her and Ymir  _ wails.  _

“Too loud,” Historia says, sitting in a velvet chair next to the bench. She is beautiful in her naked glory, elegant legs crossed, her crown shining on her head. Her eyes glitter, thoroughly entertained by tonight’s performance. 

She’s at the perfect angle to watch Ymir’s hole be pounded until it’s swollen. A huge mirror at the opposite wall is angled just so, so that Ymir’s tear streaked, fucked out expressions are on display. 

Historia gestures to Mikasa with a flick of her fingers and Mikasa’s thrusts slow, then pause. Historia sighs and gazes at Ymir’s trembling form. 

“Oh, Ymir. All you have to do tonight is be silent and take what you’re given. And already you’ve broken the rule three times. Ten strikes.”

Ymir’s hands frantically cover her ass. They are positioned just so. Ymir has just enough space to tilt her wrists to cover herself and just enough leeway to move her hands away. Historia made sure of that—she is always very precise in the range of movement she allows her pet.

Historia wants Ymir to be forced to make the choice herself.

Historia tuts at the sight. “Don’t make me ask again sweetheart.” 

Ymir whimpers. “Mistress, please.  _ Please. _ ” Her ass already feels like it’s on fire from the two rounds of spanking before. She can’t imagine how it will feel after ten more of Mikasa’s terrifying blows. 

Historia sighs. “Darling, for making me wait, it’s 15 strikes now. Any longer and it will be 20.”

Ymir shudders and bites her lip. Then she carefully exhales, forcing her tense body to relax, and lifts her trembling fingers to expose her ass. 

The blow is immediate. 

Ymir swallows down the scream in her throat. Her fingers claw with the effort, her toes curl violently. Mikasa is as precise as she is powerful—she knows how to hit the exact same stretch of skin every single time. 

“Just for this punishment, you can make however much noise you need to, how’s that?” Historia coos and relief rushes through Ymir. With the next blow, Ymir lets out a low, ragged moan. 

Historia laughs. “Aren’t you grateful my dear?” 

Mikasa resumes her relentless thrusts, and Ymir shudders. When Ymir takes a little too long to answer Historia, heaving in air, Mikasa digs her nails into Ymir’s flaming red ass and Ymir  _ shrieks _ , writhing frantically in the ropes. 

“Y-yes,” Ymir sobs out. “Th-thank you, Mistress-  _ ah! _ Thank y-you!”

Mikasa starts up a scattered rhythm, two quick in a row, or one after a long pause. Ymir whimpers and strains against the ropes. How Mikasa can keep up her merciless thrusting at the same time as those blows is beyond her.

But this she can handle, this she knows how to manage. Historia likes when Ymir makes noise, likes to toy with their “quiet” rule so that when Ymir does cry out it’s all the more “delicious,” as Historia likes to say. 

Ymir can see Historia’s expression in the mirror, full of satisfaction and heat—can see her hand moving slowly between her now open legs. 

Historia is happy with her. 

For just a few moments, Ymir sighs out, regaining her bearings. This she can handle. 

Then the next blow jolts through her entire body and her vision goes white. Ymir’s muscles seize so hard she couldn’t make a sound if she tried, her throat choking around a silent scream.

The next thing she knows, Historia’s hand is stroking through her hair, and Ymir’s body unlocks. Sobbing gasps escape her lips, and she’s babbling nonsensically, unable to form words.

“You only have three more, my pet,” Historia murmurs. “Once you’re done, you can eat me out. You’re doing so well. Can you keep going, for me?”

Ymir presses her head into Historia’s hand and squeezes her eyes shut. She can barely think. All she knows is that she wants more of Historia’s warmth, her touch, anything as long as it’s  _ Historia _ . 

Ymir shudders, then jerks her head in a nod. 

Historia holds Ymir’s jaw in a firm grasp and pulls her head up gently to look at her face. When Ymir opens her eyes, it’s to the sight of Historia’s blue eyes, as bright as the sky.

Historia smiles and kisses her softly. “Good pet.” 

Mikasa’s next blow feels like the hardest yet. Ymir  _ sobs _ , but keeps her eyes locked on Historia’s through the tears, taking comfort in the pleased smile on Historia’s face.

“Eight,” Historia whispers, smoothing her fingers over Ymir’s lips. 

“Nine,” and Ymir’s mouth opens on a scream. She shudders as Historia’s thumb reaches in and presses down firmly on her tongue,  _ claiming  _ Ymir as her own. 

“Ten,” and the cry that rips out of her is garbled by the press of Historia's thumb. Ymir claws her fingers, tensing hard to avoid biting down on Historia’s thumb.

Historia kisses her again and Ymir can feel the smile on her lips. “My sweet pet. You are so good to me.” 

Then, Mikasa is pulling out of Ymir, flipping her over, and Ymir moans at how sensitive her entire body feels. She’s utterly helpless, unable to even adjust her balance—at the complete mercy of her queen, and the thought has her trembling.

Historia moves forward gracefully and sits down on Ymir’s face. “Mikasa, make sure you’re holding her hips tight so she can do her job. I’m close. I want to come  _ now _ .” 

Mikasa slides back in, less hard but just as deep, and Ymir’s gasp is lost in the press of Historia’s body. 

Ymir licks hungrily at Historia’s wetness, losing herself in the motion. Finally, she gets to serve her queen, gets to feel her warmth. 

Historia grinds down as she comes, crying out loudly. Her voice is sweet, and her cum gushes out beautifully, coating Ymir’s tongue. 

Historia’s orgasm stretches out long, so long that black begins to spot across Ymir’s vision, unable to inhale air to replace the breaths that Mikasa’s thrusts knock out of her lungs. 

Just as Ymir truly thinks she’s about to pass out, Historia lifts up with a satisfied sigh. Ymir arches up, heaving in air. Her dizziness is intoxicating.

Historia moves off the bench and turns to kiss Ymir deeply. Ymir’s moans at the slick slide of Historia’s tongue over hers, claiming her completely, barely giving her time to get the air her lungs ache for. 

Historia nips at her lips, pulling them up taut and then shoving her fingers into Ymir’s mouth. Ymir shudders and licks frantically at her fingers. 

Historia laughs and pulls aways, then leaves one last peck on her lips. “Good girl,” she whispers against Ymir’s lips, and Ymir’s mouth curves into a tired smile. 

Then Historia reaches down to Ymir’s clit, a heady contrast to Mikasa’s ruthless pounding. “Now let’s see how many times you can come in a row.”

Ymir laughs and closes her eyes, even as her hips begin to tremble again. 

Anything for her queen.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, please leave kudos or a comment! <3


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